


Just Plain Folks

by Dragonbat



Category: Batman (Comics), Robin (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Post-Robin: Unmasked, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-26
Updated: 2008-02-26
Packaged: 2017-12-22 10:03:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonbat/pseuds/Dragonbat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set between Robin: Unmasked and War Games. Tim Drake has given up the costume. The attitude is a different story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Plain Folks

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Robin belongs to DC. I'll put him back when I'm done.  
> Thanks to Kathy for the beta!

**Just Plain Folks**

He gave up the costume, but not the mindset.

In the alley across the street, the Loboys were defacing the side of the building with spray paint. _Just move along. Let it pass_.

He hastily turned the corner. There were three people ahead of him. Without being consciously aware, he noted their particulars: white male, mid-to-late forties, business suit—carrying a Gotham Herald and Wall Street Journal—scuffed shoes. White female, late teens, sweats and runners, water bottle, MP3 player, kind of cute… Tim paused. Then he shook his head sadly as the third person, a muscular youth who was also wearing athletic gear, draped an arm around her. … _And she's taken. Oh, well_. It was just his luck.

Tim wondered how Steph was managing. At first, it had been too awkward to talk to her. He hadn't mentioned her by name in his 'war journal'—not by her civilian name, at any rate—but he knew that his father was keeping a careful eye on him now, making sure that he'd cut all ties with his old life. He hadn't wanted to bring Steph home and watch his father try to determine whether she was another one of _them_. Now, knowing that she was the new Robin, well, that made talking to her even more awkward. So he wasn't seeking her out—and she seemed to be avoiding him, too.

Darla was interested. Tim liked her as a friend, but it wouldn't exactly be a smart move to get involved with her family. He grimaced. Better make that her _Family_ with a capital 'F'. Just because he wasn't actively fighting crime anymore didn't mean he was free to cozy up with la Cosa Nostra. Of course, doing so _would_ irritate the two adults in his life who had let him down the hardest: his father—who had forced him to choose between civilian life and Robin, and Bruce… who hadn't tried to talk him out of it. Getting involved with Darla might show them how badly this was tearing him apart. It might…

…Get his dad to panic and sell the house to pay for military school. AND Bruce would decide that he was too immature for the costume. Tim rested against a shop window. Not to mention that he'd basically be using Darla to get to his dad and Bruce. She deserved better. A _lot_ better. And he was an idiot for even considering taking advantage of her in such a way.

"Stop him! He's got my locket! STOP!"

Someone shoved him hard as he passed by. Tim forgot that he was out of costume. Instinct took over as he grabbed hold of the man, turned, drew him over one hip, and flipped him to the pavement. The would-be thief landed heavily. He tried to rise but a crowd quickly gathered, surrounding him. Tim stooped and pulled the thin gold chain out of the man's hand.

"Thank you," the woman said as he handed it to her. "I… that was…"

Tim shook his head. "I've been taking judo for a few years. You never know when it'll come in handy." And he'd deliberately used one of the more common throws so as not to raise any eyebrows. A police officer arrived on the scene to take charge. As the blue-shirt handcuffed the thief, Tim took advantage of the distraction to melt into the crowd and take refuge inside a busy shop.

He smiled to himself. He didn't need to be Robin to be a hero. And he didn't need to wear a costume to make a difference. The dull gray weight that had been pressing on him since the day he'd given up the suit seemed to lift. He _didn't_ have to stay on the sidelines, as long as he was subtle. As long as he was careful. And as long as he didn't tell his father about it.


End file.
